Into My Arms
by shutupmeg
Summary: My take on what happened in the tent between Harry and Hermione after Ron left. Angstyfluff.
1. Unexpected

Two tears dropped softly atop the tattered binding of Hogwarts: A History. Hermione had never felt so alone.

"I know he'll come back. I'm sure of it," Harry reassured, but her couldn't get even so much as a half-hearted nod out of her. He sat down beside his companion on the dusty floor of their oversized tent she had brought for them. He put his arm on her shoulder. He couldn't believe Ron had actually left, though he couldn't blame him. This tiring odyssey wasn't for everyone. They needed all the help they could get and one less member of their group made these near impossible tasks that much more challenging. He knew that Hermione's loyalty was unwavering and she would stick with him no matter what, and that meant the world to him. Anyone else that was true of had died. She was all he had and she knew that.

He tried to wipe the tears from her cheeks, but was unsuccessful, as her crying had slowly progressed into a sob. She had now collapsed into his chest, her overused book falling to the floor. She had been able to stay strong through obliterating her parents' memories of her existence, leaving civilization behind and the mentally grueling tasks of finding and destroying horcruxes. But now with her best friend, the person she loved more than anything abandoning her and Harry when they needed him most, she had never felt more betrayed or more lost. It was more than she could handle and she couldn't imagine facing reality again. Harry rested his head upon hers and held her close. He couldn't imagine how upset, angry and confused she must be.

They sat there together for what could have been hours or minutes, consoling each other for the loss of their friend and the uncertain future that lay ahead of them. Finally Hermione had cried all the tears she could for Ron and she opened her eyes to look upon Harry. He looked back at her, searching her distressed face for some clue to make her feel better. Looking at his pensive expression reminded Hermione of the first time she had laid eyes on him. Such a courageous but naïve young wizard, unaware and unprepared for the life he would lead. She smiled when she recalled all the times she had to repair the glasses he now looked at her through. It felt like they had been friends for several lifetimes, for all the adventures, bad and good, they had embarked on together.

Harry was so relieved to see a smile on her face, though meek, it meant she didn't blame him for the situation she was in. He smiled back his crooked smile and kissed her forehead before standing up. He picked up her book and sat it on a nearby table and walked over to their ancient radio and began turning the tuning knob. Hermione wiped away the remnants of her breakdown and waited intently for him to find the station he was looking for. Most of the stations were news reports. None were very upbeat. Those infiltrated by the Death Eaters praising the investigations of impure witches and wizards. Hermione hoped he would just give up and come sit back down; more bad news was the last thing she needed.

Finally Harry found a static ridden station that played music. As Nick Cave's "Oh Children" escaped the small speakers, Harry turned back to his friend. He walked over to her in as gentlemanly a gait as he could muster. He bowed before he and held out his hand. She wholeheartedly chuckled at his mock-chivalry and graciously accepted, slapping her hand right on top of his. The instant she did, he pulled her to her feet and into his arms. He quickly unclasped the draining locket from her neck, throwing it to the cot behind them. Then a sort of waltzing/swinging hybrid ensued and they found themselves laughing hysterically the whole time. Through the twists, the dips, the twirls and the box steps, not once did their minds drift to destroying the locket. Not once did they think of Ron's betrayal. Not once did they think of what was riding on their improbable success. They didn't think of much of anything, which was a luxury they hadn't indulged in for months, perhaps even years. They simply enjoyed each other's company, the music and their intermediate dance skills that kept them tripping over each other's feet and laughing all the more.

They both wished the song would never end, the real world wouldn't find them and they could grow old together, dancing their lives away. The song began to fade out and Harry worked up to a grand finish. He twirled his dance partner around three times and started to lean her down for a big dip. But the momentum of their twirling had them on the floor before the song's last notes had even played. Side by side, Harry's arms still around Hermione's waist, the dance partners were in stitches; their asses and egos severely bruised.

"This is what I get for chivalry," Harry choked through laughs.

"Chivalry would have been taking a dance lesson before nearly killing the both of us!" Hermione retorted.

Finally their laughter subsided. Hermione suddenly realized she was laying in the arms of a man that wasn't Ron. She turned to sit up, but she realized Harry's arms weren't letting go. She looked back into his eyes. It was a look she had only seen once, when he hastily said goodbye to Ginny when they had to flee Bill and Fleur's wedding. It was a mix of anguish and lust and she was lost as to what to do next. Should she do the right thing and force herself away from him or give into Harry's needs and the warmth she felt growing between her legs? She didn't have a chance to decide before Harry had taken her head in his hands to pull her lips to his. She didn't pull away, but she didn't kiss back either. All she could hear was Ron's voice. All she could picture was his smile, but she had to keep telling herself he abandoned her. She had never thought of Harry this way before, but she didn't really have an adequate amount of time to weigh all her options as he timidly kissed her lips and the stubble on his chin tickled her face. This wasn't a conundrum she could research in her infinite schoolbooks, so she was totally lost. Before she realized it, she had opened her mouth slightly and Harry's tongue began encircling hers. Hermione found her guilt trickle to a whisper as his fingertips began tracing the exposed small of her back between her jeans and her shirt. For once Hermione told herself she wasn't going to make the practical, rational decision. Her left brain took over.

She moved onto her back and spread her bent knees to make room for him on top of her. He quickly covered her body with his own. Their eyes locked. His forehead pressed against hers, pausing for a moment, as if he hadn't thought he would have even gotten this far. Her pulse raced as the anticipation grew. He was more reassured when Hermione began nervously unbuttoning her flannel shirt. He took her head back in his hands and firmly kissed her lips, her chin, her chest, her stomach, belly button, every inch of skin that Hermione revealed to him, following her hands that seemed to be going agonizingly slow.

At last the final button was unfastened and Harry kissed his way back up her impossibly smooth skin. He slid the shirt from her arms and kissed the tops of breasts that her bra didn't cover. He finally unfastened the clasps of her bra to expose the swell of her breasts. Feeling his hot breath dance on top of her skin made the pressure between Hermione's thighs escalate to a maddening level. Harry wanted to drink in the sight of her perfect chest, but settled on taking a nipple in his mouth. Hermione tried to mask how he made her feel, but she couldn't help but let out a quiet squeal as his tongue tickled her sensitive peak, and his hand firmly squeezing the other.

Hermione couldn't take it much longer. She grasped the bottom of Harry's tear-stained shirt and forced it over his head, throwing it haphazardly across the tent. Following Hermione's lead, he began hastily unbuttoning her jeans, unable to curb his hunger for her any longer. Once unfastened, Hermione slid them from her waist, past her legs and feet, and discarded them as well. Harry locked eyes with Hermione once more. He placed his hands to the side of her breasts, then smoothed them down the silky skin of her sides until he reached the only barrier still between them. He teased her by slipping his fingertips just beneath the waistband, dipping his head down to her to her flat stomach, nipping his way across the skin there, a playful smile set on his lips. Just when Hermione thought she couldn't wait a second more, Harry lifted his head to look up at her.

Through his grin Harry managed to say, "So what would you like me to do Miss Granger?"

This was the first time either of them had spoken since they had begun their escapade. When Hermione didn't answer right away, Harry worried he should have just kept quiet. Maybe she was trying to imagine she was with Ron.

Hermione bit her lip and slightly rose her pelvis from the ground.

"I wanna hear you say it," Harry said firmly.

Hermione couldn't even formulate a response; her mind so clouded with lust and need. She was the most outspoken pupil at Hogwarts. She could articulate even the most complex subjects but this was unfamiliar territory.

Harry let out an animated sigh. "Well what a pity. Guess I was a real git," Harry said with mock disappointment and moved his hands to the floor. Just when he was about to raise his body off of hers in a theatrical fashion, Hermione grabbed his neck and wrapped her legs around his waist, holding him to her.

Harry looked back at her with a satisfied grin.

"P-please!" Hermione was able to exclaim.

"Well as long as you're being polite."

Harry rested his weight back on top of her. His hands quickly tore away her knickers, casting them aside. Harry wanted nothing more than to devour her. The tips of his fingers began massaging her in a place Ron had never found, harder and faster than anything she had ever experienced or fantasized about. Just when the first wave of bliss began to envelope her, Harry removed his hand from her. He licked his lips. She smelled heavenly; he couldn't wait another moment to taste her. He slowly slid his tongue between her moist folds before wrapping his lips around her sensitive nub of flesh. He pushed two fingers deep into her as he began to suckle the sweet mound.

Hermione's whole body began to quiver. She had no idea the human body had the capacity for such unbelievable pleasure. Each suckle, each thrust of his curved fingers, Hermione could feel the heat between her legs growing ever more. As Harry felt her muscles begin to tense, he quickly removed his tongue and hand, shirking off his pants and crawling up her body once more.

Hermione pulled down his boxers as fast as she could. The anticipation of him taking her was overwhelming. Harry knew he had to be dreaming. He couldn't remember being this painfully erect before. He ached to be inside of her. He looked at Hermione, nestled at her entrance. Even now he needed one final sign what he was about to do was alright. But Hermione had no time for him to ask permission. She wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him to her. Tiny fingers wrapped around his cock, guiding him into her.

Harry thrust deeper still, ripping a low moan from Hermione's throat. She glanced down at their entwined bodies, reveling in the sight of him thrusting into her. She had always imagined it would be Ron fucking her, making her feel this way. How many girls imagined the Chosen One between their legs at night? But it was her, a bossy bookworm who was the only thing on his mind. Harry interrupted her thoughts, cupping her face in his hands.

His thumb stroked her cheek as he spoke, "Open you eyes, Hermione." He had to see her. Wanted to know that this was real. Timidly, she opened her eyes, looking into his, so darkened by lust. He stilled for a moment before catching her lips and slamming his hips into her. Hermione gasped, her back arching like a strung bow. The pressure at the apex of her thighs was growing quickly, causing her to meet him thrust for thrust.

Harry reveled in the feeling of her hot breath on his face, her breathing becoming unsteady with her coming orgasm. Harry sensed that Hermione was close. One hand snuck between their bodies, finding her clit as he began to thrust faster.

The bliss began to overcome her. Her muscles tensed, clutching him inside her. Harry was surprised he had lasted as long as he did. Watching Hermione struggle against her own pleasure was heart-stopping. He couldn't take it anymore. He buried his head in her chest as he thrust deep into her sex, moaning with his own release. Feeling deliciously filled by his seed, her aching climax had finally ascended to a numbing level.

They collapsed onto the floor, breathless and exhausted by the pleasure they had both released. Their minds remained blank canvases for several minutes while they recovered from the incredible, yet unexpected encounter. Finally, Harry moved to the floor beside her. He looked at her adoringly, feeling like the luckiest wizard in the world. How had he not realized how beautiful she was before tonight? It had never even crossed his mind. Brushing the mane of hair from her flushed face, he leaned over to kiss her forehead tenderly.

Once the ecstasy had slowly faded, Hermione's conscience quickly replaced it. She hoped if she pretended to fall asleep, she wouldn't have to look him in the eye. It was obvious this encounter had made some already existing feelings in Harry grow deeper, and this pained Hermione to no end. While Ron wasn't perfect and his recent abandonment she may never be able to recover from, she knew he loved her more than anything and nothing she could say would quiet the deafening voice of reason, making her feel more guilty and ashamed than she ever thought possible. It was hard to swallow. She could barely breathe. What had she done? Flashes of the previous hour stabbed at her heart.

She wouldn't dare tell Harry what she was feeling. It would crush him, and he had been so wonderful to her. More selflessly, she knew he would be unable to save the world with a broken heart. So she would hope against hope, they could find these horcruxes quickly and maybe somehow find Ron when this was all over and she would beg him to take her back.

As Harry brought her aching body next to his she wished it was Ron holding her, but for the moment, she leaned her head against his chest, hoping he would mistake the falling tears from her eyes for sweat.


	2. Rescued

After what seemed like a lifetime, Hermione slowly rolled out of Harry's now limp arms, careful not to wake him. He had fallen asleep after their rendezvous.

She carefully stood up, making sure not to jostle him, and tiptoed over to her carryall for a fresh set of clothes. A long hot shower would have been preferable, but given their current living conditions, clean clothes and a _scourgify _would have to suffice. After dressing, she looked back at her recent lover. Hermione had to admit that Harry looked heartbreakingly adorable while he slept, still reaching for her and softly snoring.

She decided to go for a short walk to clear her head; she didn't want to risk waking the exhausted wizard as she puttered about restlessly. As she reached over for her carryall, she didn't realize she had accidentally picked it up from the bottom. In a matter of seconds, five huge books fell out of her bag and onto the floor. Luckily she was able to up right the bag before the myriad other survival tools fell out, but the damage had been done: Harry was now wide-awake.

Upon hearing the large bang, he was up in one fluid motion. Had his wand been in his pants pocket, and had he been wearing pants, it would have been outstretched in front of him as well. Hermione jumped at the sudden movement of the naked man; breathless with the adrenaline readying him to take on the culprit of the menacing sound.

Just as quickly as he had stood up, Harry saw the large heap of open books on the floor and a fully dressed Hermione, obviously not in any immediate danger. She looked at him with wide eyes, both erupting into hysterics.

"How exactly did you plan on defending me, Harry?" Hermione teased.

"As you well know, I'm more than equipped," Harry shot back, waggling his eyebrows.

Hermione rolled her eyes. That was one thing Harry and Ron had in common, personifying their dicks into gods, more powerful than mere mortals.

Harry walked over to the table, stumbling slightly, as his glasses had been cast aside at some point in their tryst.

He wrapped his arm around Hermione's regrettably clothed waist. "You are disgustingly over-dressed for the occasion. A minimum of five items of clothing must be removed immediately if you plan on staying at this exclusive affair."

"Well I was planning on going for a short stroll anyway, so feel free to banish me from the premises."

"Why would you do a silly thing like strolling?"

"My hope was to let you sleep while I cured my restlessness, but it looks like that was shot to hell."

"No problem," he assured, leaning closer to brush his lips against her cheek, "I'd rather be awake anyway. I was having an awful dream."

Hermione braced herself for the tsunami-sized wave of guilt his small display of affection brought on, "I thought that had stopped. What's he up to now?"

"Torturing an older man. He's trying to find something."

"I'm sorry, Harry. Did you catch any details? I could try to find something in my books," she glanced down at the mountain of literature below them, "I actually have more than what you can see." Her cheeks had gone red.

"You're so amazing, 'Mione. No I didn't catch what he was looking for, but he certainly thought the old man knew its whereabouts."

Hermione frowned empathetically, then gently removed Harry's arm from her waist and bent down to gather the fallen books. Harry followed. Upon squinting, he noticed Tales of Beetle the Bard was about a meter away from the others. He carefully tossed it to Hermione before turning to locate his glasses and begin the scavenger hunt to find his clothes. He couldn't believe how lucky he was. He had just had the most amazing sex with the most impossibly brilliant, beautiful witch. He had always felt a pang of attraction for her, but knew she was way out of his league. He thought it was weird she had ended their snuggling so soon, but it was Hermione, and he assumed her mind must always be racing.

When all but a lone sock had been recovered, Harry decided to call it quits. Clothed once more, he turned back to find Hermione sitting at the table, her long hair in a messy bun, thumbing through one of the books she had picked up from the floor. Somehow her skimming over those pages was just as sexy as when she was unbuttoning her shirt several hours ago. He couldn't help but smile, overtaken by her simple beauty.

Unable to resist another moment, he walked over to her. Harry lightly grasped her chin between his thumb and pointer finger, guiding her head up to look at him. A warm smile befell her face. She had missed having moments like these. Ron had been distant long before he actually left, and seeing a man look at her the way Harry was now was almost enough to silence the screaming guilt rattling between her ears.

"Would you like a cup of tea?" He asked, brushing the stray hairs from her cheek behind her ear.

"That would be amazing actually, thanks." She replied.

He leaned down to kiss the top of her head, and then went about making the tea.

She watched Harry strum his fingers impatiently, waiting for the kettle to boil. She could get used to the Chosen One tending to her.

Two weeks later…

Hermione and Harry were sitting outside on a grassy hill. Hermione was intently reading a book, while Harry rolled the locket over his fingers. He laid down, resting his head in Hermione's lap. She rested her free hand on his stomach, which he loosely entwined with his. As he looked up at her pensive expression, he couldn't recall seeing anything more beautiful. Ginny in her dress for Bill and Fleur's wedding was quite beautiful, but over the past two weeks of falling asleep with Hermione in his arms, any remaining feelings he had for the young witch had faded. Sure she was amazing in her own right, but Harry loved how Hermione challenged him and didn't tolerate any of his shit. He had grown so tired of people being star struck around him, treating his every action like gold. It was so refreshing to spend time with someone who treated him like a real human being.

Hermione had buried herself in books the past week. She had found herself starting to fall for the wizard that was currently nestling his head in her lap. Yet the occasional wave of guilt still crashed over her. She couldn't fully commit to Harry and forget about Ron, whom she had cared about for years, nor could she continue to pine for Ron, who had abandoned her when she needed him most, while Harry was treating her like a princess. So she dove into an abyss of trivial wizarding information, hoping that would fill her brain instead of the countless mental pro/con lists of being with Harry or Ron that would overflow within it instead.

When Hermione realized this was her third time reading chapter five of Hogwarts: A History this week, she knew she had reached her limit on information for the day. She slipped the large book back into her bag and looked down at the man below her. The way the afternoon sun danced on his six-day-old stubble was borderline breathtaking. Immediately after thinking this Hermione mentally slapped the preteen bimbo who had momentarily inhabited her, hoping to banish her forever.

"I'm going to go for a short stroll," she said as she carefully removed his head from her lap, quickly conjuring a pillow to take her place. "Will the Chosen One be able to handle a half hour all by himself?"

"It's not going to be an easy task. But for the wizard hand chosen to defeat evil personified, thus saving all of humanity, I suppose I can handle thirty minutes by myself. But not a minute longer!" Harry replied with mock exasperation.

Hermione rolled her eyes at his cocky retort, then leaned down to kiss his forehead before embarking on her short journey. When she attempted to sit back up, she noticed Harry's arms were still around her, pulling her back.

"There's something really important we have to do before you go," Harry said with theatrical sincerity.

"Oh really? What would that be?" Hermione questioned with mock concern.

Rather than answer he pulled her on top of him. He softly kissed her lips before nibbling her bottom lip.

Just as Hermione's tongue found her way into his mouth, Harry gave her a quick spank

and said, "Okay have a nice stroll."

Harry loved to tease. Hermione gave him a light slap on the cheek, before placing a quick peck on his lips.

She sat up without any resistance. After a few paces she looked back at Harry. He had fished Dumbledore's biography out of her bag to read. She wondered if he had brought a book out to read to impress her, until he knew she was out of range when he could conjure the latest issue of "Playwitch" to peruse. She had to chuckle at his predictability.

She saw a beautiful aged Oak tree a few meters up ahead she would sit beneath for a bit before returning. Harry and she both took frequent walks. It was the only way to get any breathing room, if you didn't, the tent's walls felt like they were falling down on you.

Harry looked back, setting the exaggerated biography down. Hermione was out of sight; meaning Playwitch could now come out to play. He thumbed through the smut, finding lightening bolt-shaped pubic hair both ironic and entertaining. Harry decided to read the article about new spells developed to aid the feasibility of the more gravity-defying sexual positions, then he would rustle up something for a late lunch for him and the witch he would hope to use those spells with.

Hermione reached the Oak she had spotted earlier and sat underneath it. She leaned against its trunk and closed her eyes, enjoying her peaceful surroundings. The thought of staying in these woods forever, as opposed to what leaving them meant (a probable losing battle), seemed quite pleasant. Laying in the sun, reading, taking nature walks, sipping tea a handsome man had fixed; it sounded like an enviable life. But before her mind's eye had fully taken in the beauty of what a life spent in these woods would be like, Hermione heard a faint rustling behind her. Were there also voices? She couldn't be positive.

Just as Harry was looking in Hermione's carryall for something to make for lunch, he heard a faint scream behind him. He knew in an instant it was Hermione's. Wand out, he began sprinting towards the sound, the direction Hermione had begun her walk only minutes ago. As he reached the forest's edge, he still didn't see anyone. He paused for a moment at a large Oak tree, hoping to hear something. He noticed the grass around it was disturbed, like someone had drug their heals through the ground. Suddenly it all clicked. Hermione must have stopped here for a rest, well outside the protective boundaries she had set for them closer to camp, and snatchers must have caught her.

Hermione woke up on a cold stone floor, bruised and exhausted. She felt like she had been through the spin cycle of a washing machine. Afraid to open her eyes and see exactly where she was, she gradually opened one eye. It was dark and her vision was blurred, slowly steel bars came into view, so did the stone floor, walls and ceiling. Seeing no immediate danger, she allowed her other eye to open. A long hallway, illuminated only by a candle came into view. So she was in some sort of dungeon, but where? She slowly sat up, every movement excruciating, and carefully scooted herself against the hard wall, grasping desperately at flashes of memories before she found herself in the dingy confinement. She remembered two snatchers dragging her from her heavenly spot under the Oak tree. Then aparating. Then shooting pain, again and again. These men asking her where Harry was. More pain.

She was able to piece together that the snatchers must not have known who she was. When they brought her back someone must have recognized her. If they didn't know where Harry was, he must have gotten out before they came back. She could not have been more relieved to realize this.

Judging by how sore every muscle in her body was right now, the cruciatus curse must have been used for quite some time in an attempt to get her to talk. Hermione was glad she didn't actually know where Harry was, so she wouldn't have been tempted to crack under the immense pain.

Hermione wished she had never woken up. All that was left to do was wait until they came back and tortured her some more. She hoped at least Harry was safe. She distinctly remembered aparating, so there was no way he would be able to find her, nor would she have wanted him to take such a risk. Feeling hopeless and without books to help her escape, she slumped to the floor and laid in the fetal position, a river of silent tears spilling onto the unforgiving ground.

She wished for nothing more than to take herself back to the tent's uncomfortable cot, with Harry holding her in his arms, snoring loudly in her ear. Just when Hermione thought she things could not be worse, she heard a heavy wood door creak open down the hall. A hulking man lumbered closer and closer to Hermione's cell. She wished there was a sharp or blunt object close by to save herself this impending encounter.

After what seemed like years, the man was at her cell door. She refused to make eye contact with him.

"It's that time again, love," the nameless man spoke menacingly.

She didn't say a word, and didn't plan to.

The man picked her bruised body up in one quick heave, and turned to go back through the door. She longed for the days when Harry would pick her up from her table of textbooks and whisk her to bed. But Hermione now knew if she didn't cough up some information about him, she would be killed.

The large door came closer as the man continued to shuffle forward. Hermione had never smelled someone this bad. Even Hagrid after he cleaned up after his magical creatures smelled like Chanel No. 5 compared to this wizard. At least she wouldn't have to experience this odor much longer.

He kicked the door three times in succession. After a few seconds a smaller man opened the large door and held the door open for them. He was wearing an oversized hood, so she couldn't see his face.

After they walked up a flight of stairs, Hermione found herself in an enormous, echoing room. It was covered in dull white tile from top to bottom, no windows. She supposed the room she would spend her final moments in could have been much more menacing. No frightening statues or pools of blood to be found.

Once they had reached the middle of the room, the odorous man dropped her bluntly onto the ground. The small cry of pain she allowed herself bounced off the walls. After she recovered from her fall, she noticed the man now had his wand out.

"Alright, love. You wasted my time all yesterday, so this is your last chance. Where is Harry Potter?"

Hermione didn't say a word, or even dignify the man with eye contact.

"We found the tent. We know you were with him. He must be a great shag if you haven't given him up yet."

Hermione continued to stare straight ahead, as if half-heartedly watching an old rerun on television. She was quite proud of her poker face. If this man was going to kill her, he at least wouldn't get to see how frightened she truly was.

"Look, you know we're going to find him eventually. Just tell me where he is and we'll let you go back to your muggle parents. I'm sure they miss ya."

Other than a quick blink, Hermione's expression remained apathetically frozen.

"I've reached the end of my patience, puppet. I'm done torturing you. Either you tell me where Potter is now, or you'll never have the chance again."

Hermione closed her eyes. She didn't want to see the stream of green escape his wand. She could only focus on the faces of her family and friends. She would never see them again.

She could hear someone walking towards her soon to be murderer. She assumed it was the man who had opened up the door for them.

"Hold it right there, Scabior. She's a lost cause. We haven't gotten so much as a word from her the entire time. Let's just end this so we can free up the cell space."

"I still think she could surprise us," said the hooded man.

Hermione was curious as to who could have faith in her after all this time to rat out her best friend. She opened her eyes, but the hood was still covering up the man's face.

"Merlin, you're infuriating. Alright one more time," he said exasperated. He got down on the floor, so his face was mere centimeters from hers. He pushed the tip of his wand to her temple. Still Hermione wouldn't look him in the eye, she just stared up at the hooded man behind him, wondering how long he would be able to convince this man she was worth keeping alive.

"Last chance, darling. Prove me wrong. Where is Harry James Potter?"

At that moment, the man she thought to be Scabior lifted off his hood, revealing a familiar face, untamable hair, and an infamous scar. Hermione burst into tears.

"Well look at that," he said as he slowly removed his wand from her head. "Maybe my friend was right after all. Looks like someone wants to live to see their filthy mudblood children grow up. Are we finally ready to talk?"

Hermione gave a nod, she knew he would know where Harry James Potter was in a mere moment.

"That's the spirit! Guess I should have let you handle this all along Scabe, you didn't really show much interest until tonight though."

Before he had time to turn and face him, "Stupify!" was yelled behind him. The large man fell hard onto the tile.

Once he knew he was safely incapacitated, Harry leapt over to the hysterical Hermione, picking her up in one heave, tucking her head securely under his chin. In an instant they had aparated to an empty room at The Leaky Cauldron

Harry carefully laid her onto the bed and sat beside her, taking her hand in his, never more relieved to see Hermione's face in his entire life. He quickly locked the room's door and drew the blinds.

"I thought you could use a hot shower and a real bed for the night. I can't apologize enough for how long it took me to find you. This was the hardest two days of my life but I can't even imagine what you must have gone through."

Still in complete and utter disbelief, Hermione looked into Harry's warm green eyes. She knew he cared for her, but risking his life to rescue her was unimaginable.

She grabbed him and pulled him close, ignoring the pain of Harry's weight on top of her. She held him until she knew it was real, that she was really going to live, that the Chosen One loved her enough to risk his life to save her, that she was really laying on top of a comfortable mattress, that a shower was merely feet away.

"How did you do it?" Hermione asked, moving her hands from his back to his shoulders, mindlessly toying with the hem of his shirt.

Harry lifted his head from her chest, revealing a mischievous smile. "There are only so many snatcher dens in the country, and that Scabior takes a lot of smoke breaks."

He quickly began taking off Hermione's clothes. After the rescue he had just performed, Hermione didn't care what he did to her. As more and more of her skin became exposed, as did numerous bruises and welts, and Harry made sure to kiss every last one. Once she was completely disrobed, Hermione lifted up her arms to embrace him once more, as she did, she realized he was lifting her up. He walked her over to the bathroom, and with one flick of his wand, the bath was filled with hot, cleansing water. Harry slowly lowered his lover into the bath, kissing her forehead once her body was submerged. She didn't let go.

"I love you," Hermione whispered, threading one hand through his mop of hair.

A wide smile spread across Harry's face, his thumb brushing over her cheekbone. "I love you, too,"

"Accio soap." A bar of soap in hand, Harry began washing Hermione's hands, caked with black muck. Then her arms and her back. Hermione was beginning to think the hell she went through was worth the heaven she currently found herself in.

Harry was now washing her long hair with the hotel's shampoo. Hermione grasped his wrists with her hands and lowered them from her head.

"Harry you have meant more to me than any man I've ever known." She meant it. She knew no one would ever treat her his way. He leaned down to kiss her wet lips before he returned to washing her hair. That meant the world to him to hear. He felt for so long like he was living in Ron's shadow. They had loved each other for so long, he wondered if he could ever measure up to that. Now he knew that she cared for him as much as he did for her.

Harry put his hand behind her neck and slowing dipped the back of her head into the water, then pulled her back up once the shampoo had escaped.

"There's no conditioner. I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me," Harry said with a smile.

"In time I hope I can. But I'm not making any promises." She replied.

"I understand." He said, kissing her hand. He turned to fetch a towel from the cabinet. He unfolded it and spread it open to wrap around her. Hermione sat up and with one quick tug, she had pulled the towel from his hands and thrown it to the floor. His clothes vanished as she pulled him into the bath on top of her.

He ran his hands over her smooth wet skin under the water. Taking her head in his hands, he gently touched his lips to hers. His kisses were feather light, as though she were a porcelain doll, easily broken. After the ordeal she had gone through, Hermione appreciated Harry being gentle with her, but she needed him. She didn't want to be treated like this broken woman, she wanted everything to go back the way it was. He finally explored her mouth with his tongue, encircling her tongue with his. She felt like she was back in middle school again, timidly attempting to French kiss for the first time. In a way this felt like it was her first time. Harry had washed away her past and now only the present mattered.

Harry moved his mouth to her ear and began gently suckling her earlobe, one hand now resting innocently on her inner thigh. Hermione couldn't wait another second. All she could think about in that dungeon was the way it felt when she'd been with him. She longed to feel that again. Surprising even herself, Hermione mustered up the confidence to wrap her hand around his dick and rest it against her.

Harry bit his lip at the tight grasp she now had around him. "Hermione." Her name was merely a whisper on his lips. "I don't think we should."

Hermione wasn't in the mood for silly dialogue. "Fuck me Harry," she breathed, bringing him to her opening.

Without any further questions, Harry's eyes fell closed as he slowly entered her, not yet ready to be rough with her. To show him that's all she wanted, she wrapped her legs tightly around his waist, forcing him deeper inside her.

Harry finally gave in, thrusting harshly inside her, causing a small whimper to escape her mouth and her eyes to slam shut. He continued to penetrate her over and over again. Hermione felt all the bad memories of the last few days fade into the distance as only her present and her future mattered now. Forcing her eyes open, she looked at the wizard on top of her. His pace slowed and he looked deep into her eyes, smiling as if he had her all figured out. He leaned down to kiss bring his lips to hers.

They knew they wouldn't be able to cuddle or even enjoy each others company for much longer before reality came roaring back, but for the moment, with their two bodies as one, they knew they were home.


	3. Dangerous Encounter

The sun had just started to break through into dawn as the couple slept entwined on the uncomfortably firm hotel bed. They would have slept well into the morning if not for the light tapping on their window.

Harry shot out of bed instantly, sprinting boldly towards the noise. Hermione had awakened from the abrupt jostling of the bed to find Harry peaking cautiously behind the curtains. She held her breath as she silently reached for her wand from the bedside table.

Millimeter by millimeter Harry moved the edge of the curtain at impossibly slow speed. Hermione's wand was raised in front of her, countless spells for countless malevolent beings running through her head.

Suddenly Hermione noticed Harry's tense stature relax as he carelessly opened the window to let a very rambunctiously clumsy owl buzzing into their room.

"That's Ron's owl, isn't it?" Harry mumbled.

Hermione nodded silently.

Harry managed to snatch the letter Pigwidgeon was clutching between his talons, motioning for Hermione to bring the tiny bird a bowl of water. He unwrapped the enveloped and read the note. It was very cryptic, but Harry understood.

"What does it say, Harry?"

"From what I can gather Ron made it to his parents house after he left and he wants us to spend Christmas with him."

"Well that's a bit much isn't it? He abandons us but wants us to eat treacle tart and exchange gifts? What a git."

"He must feel awful for what he's done. He just wants to make it right."

"How did he even find us?"

"I haven't the faintest idea."

"Harry what if it's a trap? What if the Death Eaters got to the Weasleys and had them send this."

"The Weasleys? They'd die before they'd do anything to hurt the cause."

"Well I suppose you're right. Are you actually considering going?"

Shocking even himself, yes, he was. He hadn't thought through how he and Hermione would handle themselves, or if they would allow Ron to return with them but he had to admit he did miss his mate, despite the fact he would likely never speak to him again if he knew Harry had slept with the only girl he had ever loved.

"I do miss the Weasleys. And it would be nice to see familiar faces on Christmas and take a short break from this endless journey. But it's up to you. I can't imagine how hard it would be for you to see Ron."

"Ginny is going to be there, too." Hermione said, slightly annoyed. "Have you considered that?"

Honestly Harry hadn't and he was instantly regretting showing an interest in going at the sound of Hermione's tone.

"You do make a good case, actually. It would be good for us to get some encouragement and a holiday meal." Hermione hesitated. "Maybe if we just go for the day, we won't get corned by them."

Harry knew she was talking about Ginny and Ron wanting to talk and probably more with each of them. If they just went for the day, they wouldn't necessarily have to worry about that.

"Alright that should work. Should we send a letter back to let them know we're coming?"

They watched the miniscule bird wiz around the room like a pinball. They had to laugh. It was any easy decision to give Pig the rest of the day off. They would apparate early in the morning and spend all of Christmas day with the Weasleys.

Harry moved the curtain back again and after a few seconds, Pigwidgeon got the hint and flew out, only hitting the edge of the window once.

The next morning, the soon-to-be secret couple joined hands and apparated to the Burrow. After the excruciating seconds, they found themselves just outside the quaint house. They walked towards the door and Harry knocked several times in rapid succession.

After a brief moment they heard the sound of someone lumbering towards the door. At once it swung open and the two were instantly suffocated by a hysterical bear hug.

"I hoped it was you two!" Mrs. Weasley squealed. "It's so good to see you! You can stay as long as you like. There's plenty of room _and _plenty to eat. Now go see my children, I know they're even happier to see you than I am."

Finally they were released from the pleasantly confining hug and reluctantly walked into the house. They hoped Ron and Ginny weren't expecting to have any long chats right away.

To their delight, Fred and George welcomed them with a crack about Harry's unshaved face and a jab about Hermione's black eye.

"It makes you look very intimidating." Fred quipped.

"It looks like she could defeat You Know Who all on her own." George added.

"I _have_ always said she was the real Chosen One." Harry joined.

Hermione laughed. She considered telling them of Harry's daring rescue, but she knew it was borderline what a boyfriend would do, and she didn't want their minds to wonder.

Mrs. Weasley passed by them, heading back to the kitchen. The two couldn't help but get lost in the spirit of Christmas here. Decorations adorned every inch of the home, delicious smells flooded your nose and made your salivary glands ache.

Two sets of steps were bounding down the stairs. Harry and Hermione looked at each other, knowing what was coming.

At once Hermione found Ron with his arms tightly around her and Harry found a tearful Ginny doing the same.

"Happy Christmas, Ginny." Harry managed to say.

"I think we should go help Dad in the garden with all those pesky gnomes." George remarked.

"Yes it is getting a bit crowded in here." Fred agreed.

Brought back to reality by their brothers' sarcasm, the siblings let go of Harry and Hermione and hugged the other.

"I'm so sorry, Harry." Ron said. "I regretted leaving immediately after I did."

"I know you would, Ron. It's alright." Harry replied.

Thankfully a scream from the kitchen of "Breakfast is ready!" interrupted the painfully tender moment.

They all filed in and sat at the table, in awe of the great feast.

Mr. Weasley quickly joined them, along with the rest of the Weasley men. Tonks and Remis were going to join them for dinner.

They ate heartily as Harry and Hermione filled them in on their adventures since Ron had left. Mr. Weasley told them about the current goings on at the ministry and what the Order was doing to combat it. Ginny complained about Hogwarts under Snape's rule. Ron recounted his run in with some snatchers after he left Harry and Hermione.

In so many ways, it felt like any other holiday but it so many others it could not have been more different. Ron and Ginny could palpably feel the cooled passion their former lovers were exuding towards them. Not to mention Harry and Hermione couldn't very well relax knowing what a great risk it was even being here.

But they continued to chat like nothing had changed and Mrs. Weasley continued to force feed them troughs of delicious food. All the while Hermione innocent ran her foot up the length of Harry's leg. Harry did hid best not to react. Why was she playing with fire?

Two could play at that game. The long table cloth completely hid the fact that Harry's fingertips were now tracing the inside of Hermione's sensitive thigh, coming dangerously close to the middle seam of her pants.

Harry shot a quick glance at Hermione, her eyes were closed and a pained smile befell her face. To anyone else, she may have just seemed tired. She was a tremendous actor.

"I hope you two will stay the night. It's been so long since I had so many of my children under one roof." Mrs. Weasley lamented, acknowledging Harry and Hermione.

"Oh we'd love to Mrs. Weasley, but it probably wasn't smart for us to even come in the first place, for your safety's sake. We'll stay for dinner, but we best be going after that." Harry said disappointedly.

"I understand." Mrs. Weasley said. "Do you know where you're going to go next?"

"We have a few leads." Hermione answered vaguely, making sure not to look at Ron.

"How are Bill and Fleur?" Harry asked, changing the subject.

"We haven't heard from them in a few weeks." Mr. Weasley answered, hiding concern. "But the last time we did they were doing fine. Trying to enjoy the newlywed life, despite the…" He trailed off.

"Well, unless anyone would like another serving?" Mrs. Weasley said to a sea of fervent "no's." "Then I'll clean up, will you help me dears?" She said, acknowledging Hermione and Ginny.

They arose at once, stacking plates and carrying still heaping serving dishes to the kitchen.

"I think I'm going to go for a little walk." Harry said. "I'm afraid if I lay down I may never get up."

"Would you like company?" Ron asked expectantly.

"I think I need just a bit of time with my own thoughts." Harry said delicately. "I won't be gone long, it looks like it might snow any minute."

"Alright. Well I would like to talk when you get back."

"Of course." Harry knew what was coming. Ron was going to make a spectacle of an apology and beg them to take him back. Another head to put together would be helpful. And they did appreciate his perfectly timed comic relief during the particularly trying days. But Harry knew Ron would expect to get back in bed with Hermione before too long, and if she refused, he wouldn't be able to contain his suspicions for long. Then they would be right where they were now. Maybe if they all met up again after it was all over, they could explain that something happened a long time after Ron left. Then maybe he would forgive them and they could all be friends. But now they couldn't risk anything more disrupting their work. Selfishly Harry also didn't want to risk Hermione's feelings for Ron to come flooding back.

He turned towards the door and walked out. Harry enjoyed the brisk silence outside. As welcoming as the Weasley's always were, all those red heads talking at once could get a bit overwhelming.

He walked around the property, enjoying all the eccentric angles of the home, the lush garden and the intimidating gnomes.

Out of nowhere he felt the smallest of pebbles hit his back. Was it a gnome? None of them looked guilty. He didn't see Fred or George hanging out of a window or peaking out from behind a corner. He paused for several seconds before turning back to the path when I felt a slightly bigger pebble hit his left hip. At once he saw a flash of long brown hair before a cloak was roughly shoved over his head.

He was now face to face with Hermione under his invisibility cloak.

"I couldn't wait another minute!" She said breathlessly. "Quick lets go behind those trees."

Hermione began to run, and Harry had no choice but to join her, unless he wanted to be found out. Luckily the snow on the ground was slowly beginning to melt, so you couldn't see any tracks.

They ran towards a grouping of trees that would allow maximum coverage. Once they knew they were out of range of anyone's eyes they threw off the cloak. Harry pinned Hermione against a tree, kissing her roughly and passionately. Forcibly gliding his tongue deep into her mouth. She then bit and sucked on his lower lip and he raked his nails up her silky smooth back.

He pulled his lips away from her grasps and began firmly kissing down the side of her neck, then back up to caress her sensitive earlobe with his tongue.

Hermione began running her hands through Harry's dark locks, tugging cruelly when he roughly nibbled the wafer-thin skin of her collar bone.

Harry tore away Hermione's coat and shirt. Hermione didn't even notice how bitter cold it was. Harry resumed nibbling and biting and kissing Hermione's exposed skin, teasing the areas her bra still covered, tickling her skin with his coarse beard. She pawed at his erect cock through his pants before she leaned back against the tree and enjoyed a few minutes of painfully erotic foreplay until she couldn't take it anymore.

She took the wand out of her pant's pocket and disrobed Harry in one swish and flick.

"It's no fun when you take all the romance out of it!" Harry dramatically complained.

"Oh do you ever shut up?" She screamed. She took him by the hips and brought his body flush with hers.

"You know how much I hate to punish you." Harry said between kisses. "But you leave me no choice."

Instantly Harry had thrown Hermione to the ground. He ripped off her pants and gave her a merciless spank to her bare buttocks. She let out a high moan of searing pleasure.

Before she had a second to recover, he pummeled her again. This time a silent scream escaped her.

She was trembling as Harry threw her into her back. Harry hadn't been this rough since before she was kidnapped. She was so relieved not to be treated delicately anymore, like a fragile doll. He was throwing her around without a hint of gentleness. She loved his painfully aggressive passion.

He tossed her legs behind his head and leaned down to kiss her before he began to innocently tracing the impossibly smooth skin between her legs. He slowly slid his fingers between her delicate folds, making small circles around her sensitive mound. Hermione's back arched with the aching neglect of her most intense nerve endings.

She bit her lips as his fingertips grew closer and closer until…

Hermione let out a quiet moan as Harry lightly stroked her clit while he caressed her breast and gently pulled at her nipple with his teeth.

He made a quick glance through the branches at the Burrow to make sure no one was watching them or looking for them. Everyone seemed to still be inside.

Their privacy a certainty, he brushed the hair away from Hermione's face. She looked back at him, eyes begging, mouth agape, body shivering with anticipated pleasure.

He grabbed her hair in one tight grip. Then with his other hand, he guided his achingly erect cock gradually, but deep inside her. Hermione couldn't help but tremble with every centimeter he filled inside her.

She finally exhaled when he slowly pulled out of her. Eyes black with lust, Harry gave Hermione a look of warning.

She bit her lip and gripped the ground beneath her. In one deliciously excruciating slide, Harry slammed back inside of her with impossible force. Hermione stole a gasp of air before Harry unleashed a barrage of thrusts upon her quivering body. Her breath shallowed and her heartbeat soared. She could barely remember where she was, she was experiencing such exquisite agony.

Harry had to look away from his lover. The mere sight of her body thrashing, her back arching, her nails digging into the ground in protest was enough to make him come right then.

Harry closed his eyes and enjoyed the feeling of his throbbing cock encased inside her warm sleeve. Impossibly tight but deliciously wet. Again Harry felt the familiar burn inside of him.

Hermione slowly began contracting and relaxing her muscles around him, shooting a burst of pleasure up his spine.

He let out a low groan of satisfaction. Harry couldn't help but steel a glance at Hermione. Her eyes were in pained slits, lips pursed and muscles tensed. She grabbed him around the neck and let his hot breath enter her open mouth as they both braced themselves for the wave of gratification beginning its fast ascent inside them.

Hermione bit Harry's lip and dug her nails deep into his flesh. Twinges of searing bliss began to build inside her sex. At once Harry felt the pleasure begin flooding through his body, beginning in his toes and bursting out of his pulsating cock.

Hermione moaned in delight as Harry's warm essence filled her completely and suddenly she too erupted into breathless spasms of climax. Eyes slammed shut she allowed the agonizing pleasure to consume her whole body in one heart-stopping wave of fire.

Harry collapsed on top of her, exhausted and quite literally drained.

They knew they couldn't revel in their shared ecstasy for very long but they knew whatever happened today, their brief moment as one would make it a whole lot easier.

After several breathless seconds, Harry rolled over to Hermione's side. She nestled in next to him out of affection and the need to stay warm.

Harry held her close in his arms, running his fingers through her hair, tracing the contours of her body with his feather-light fingertips. He leaned down and kissed her sweetly on the forehead. Hermione felt like her whole body was vibrating. She knew it was cliché, but she happened to enjoy this time just as much as the act that preceded it; those vulnerable minutes you lay still naked with your lover, enjoying their company and jointly recovering from the amazing experience you just gave each other.

Bodies entwined and pushed to the limit, they laid there in utter bliss.

Faintly coming from the direction of the Burrow, Harry heard the impossible sound of footsteps coming towards them. He whipped his head around to look at the house. Fred and George seemed to be looking all around the property for something. Harry knew it was them they were looking for.

Moving with deliberate speed, Harry grabbed his clothes and the invisibility cloak. He dressed underneath it as Hermione grabbed her clothes from around their makeshift bed.

An invisible man in front of her whispered, "I'm going to go back to the house, you act like you're reading a book." Harry bent down and pushed back the cloak to give Hermione a rushed kiss. He ran back towards the house with speed that amazed even him as a light snow began to fall.

He didn't know what had come over them to have to make love to each other right then and right there. He hoped Ron didn't bombard him the second he walked in, but he knew his indescribable last hour he just experienced represented the remainder of his good karma for the day.

Making a wide loop around the twins, he was nearly at the house. He knew he had Ginny to still worry about, too. As stressful and dangerous as his and Hermione's life on the road was, it wasn't complicated by all this inane relationship drama. He loved Hermione with all his heart.

He hoped to defeat Voldemort for many reasons, but the one that reigned over all of them was a desire to make a life with Hermione in a peaceful world, one they could raise kids in.

He ducked behind the back of the house outside of eyeshot of any of the windows and threw off his cloak, folding it and stuffing it his shirt. He walked to the front door and took a deep breath, quickly fixing his hair.

True to form, Hermione had brought her carryall to their rendezvous, so finding a novel to pretend to read was no problem. The laughing brothers were almost upon her. She smoothed her hair as best she could.

"There you are! We were afraid you'd joined the Death Eaters you had been out here for so long." George said.

"And you're reading! You know I had a newfound respect for you and Harry when you made the brave decision George and I did to quit school. But you're still reading? I just don't see the point of dropping out of school and continuing to read." Fred remarked.

"I like to learn. It's a lovely art form, you should try it." Hermione quipped as she put the textbook back into her bag.

"I'll get on that right after I lick Snape's arse." George answered.

"You would do that, George. Anyway mother wants you back in the house just in case, may we escort you?" Fred held out his open hand expectantly in mock chivalry.

"Yes, you may." Hermione responded, letting Fred help her up.

They walked back to the Burrow is silence, going quickly so as to avoid the snow which was now falling in rapid succession.

Hermione found it hard to walk normally after her encounter with Harry, but did her best so as not to get any suspicious remarks from the brothers.

She felt a little embarrassed she had been so aggressive in initiating this dangerous interaction. She just had to have him. Hermione was surprised after this many weeks, her passion and desire for Harry was only growing. She loved him more than she thought was possible. He was the most thoughtful man she had ever known.

"Can we ask you a favor, Hermione?" Fred inquired.

"You may ask, yes." She replied diplomatically.

"Will you please let Ron back on your team? He knows he choked in the playoffs, but he really wants to come through in the championship." George said.

This was about the last favor Hermione was expecting or hoping for, "That's something I'll have to leave up to Harry to decide. This is his odyssey."

"I suppose you're right." Fred agreed. "It was worth a shot. It was selfish, really. We didn't want to listen to him pine over you day after day if we didn't have to."

Thankfully they were about to pass through the door and the conversation would end.

When they walked into the delightfully warm home Hermione didn't see Harry. Ginny wasn't there either. She got a pang of jealousy in her heart, but she was glad not to have to see her after what she had just done. Luckily George asked the question she needed to know.

"Where is the Chosen One?"

"Upstairs shaving, thank Merlin." Mrs. Weasley said. "I wasn't going to let him save the world, or at the very least kiss my daughter with that scruffy monstrosity."

Hermione was so glad she had worn a turtleneck. She had no idea the damage his beard might have done. She chuckled at the joke and went upstairs to find a spare bed to nap in before dinner.

As she walked up she heard laughing coming from the bathroom. The door was cracked open and she could see Harry shaving in front of the mirror and Ron next to him laughing and carrying on.

Just for that moment everything was right and nothing had changed. She closed her eyes for a moment, willing it to be true. The fate of the world didn't rest on their shoulders, the fate of those boys' friendship didn't rest on hers. Nothing was complicated. Hermione opened her eyes again. Harry noticed her watching him. He gave her a quick wink that made her blush. Contented, she continued up the stairs in ignorant bliss.


End file.
